


Rhinovirus

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Shenanigans [79]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels get colds, Body Sharing, Dean is Not Amused, Dean thinks that God was probably crazy when he had His children, He was probably just a little drunk, Lucifer is a big baby, M/M, Sick Adam, Sick Castiel, Sick Fic, Sick Gabriel, Sick Lucifer, Sick Michael, Sick Sam, That explains platipi at least, Well maybe a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfortunately for Dean, angels get colds too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhinovirus

Right now, Dean is seriously questioning God’s sanity. (It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last – after all, there are some seriously weird creatures out there that he’s been assured are neither Gabriel’s nor Lucifer’s doing, and more are being discovered every day – but it’s definitely the most inconvenient. If he were an all-powerful, all-knowing being, he definitely wouldn’t create four semi-omnipotent weapons with the ability to be felled by the fearsome enemy known as the common cold.)

 

He’s starting to question his own sanity as well, because he’s been cooped up in an underground bunker with six miserable sick people for the past week. Apparently, in addition to being susceptible to colds, the archangels also had the tragic flaw of not being to cure themselves or others of the infection. When he’d begged Cas to cure his brothers, Cas had had a coughing fit and gravely informed him that rhinovirus was incurable.

 

Seven days later, he, Sam, and Adam are exhausted. (Sam and Adam had gotten sick on the second day, and as much as Dean would have liked to let them rest and recover, he just couldn’t take care of four whining angels by himself. He’d given Cas to Adam because the youngest angel was the least needy, and he’d told Sam to take care of Gabriel because as bad as the youngest archangel was, he was ten times easier to deal with than Michael and Lucifer.)

 

Right now, he’s actually more amused than upset but he’s trying hard not to let it show because he knows that he should probably be angry at the newest development in Michael and Lucifer’s recovery.

 

“Let me get this straight,” he manages to say after a moment of gaping. “Lucifer _left his vessel_ to go hang out in yours because he didn’t like the way his was sneezing?”

 

Michael (or Lucifer; honestly, Dean can barely tell them apart when they’re two separate people, let alone when they’re both wearing same miserable-looking face) nods. “We’re actually liking it. We’re going to do it more often.” Michael’s eyes shift and Dean can tell from their slightly menacing glint that he’s speaking with Lucifer. “But right now, we’re hungry, so feed us,” the archangel demands.

 

Dean groans. “Luce, I just spent the last two hours cooking for you and feeding you. Michael’s food isn’t ready yet, so you’re going to have to wait. Or better yet, why don’t you both go into the body I just fed,” he says, gesturing towards Lucifer’s empty vessel. “Also, why is it still breathing? Is there someone _in there_?” He puts his hands on his hips and prepares to lecture them both upon the importance of emptying their vessels before use, but Lucifer just rolls Michael’s eyes.

 

“I kept the brain stem on so it could heal itself while I’m in Michael. No one’s home.” Lucifer makes shooing motions with his borrowed hands. “Now get out of here while we switch vessels, unless you want us to burn your eyes out.”

 

Dean turns around to leave, then glances back over his shoulder. “Please tell me you’re not going to spend the rest of your lives sharing a vessel.”

 

They glance at Lucifer’s empty vessel and shrug. “If that’s what you want to hear,” they say.

 

Dean is about to scold them when his nose starts to tickle. “Hesh-CHOO!” He wipes his nose with his sleeve and starts to pout. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters.


End file.
